Entering the Fire
by CouldBeWorse24601
Summary: Maggie Shepard's family and life were burned away before she knew who she was. Growing up with a barely controlled rage, the idea of retribution and justice pushed her to become the first human SPECTRE. Now her and a crew of aliens she distrusts race to hunt down a genocidal lunatic. Can she learn to be more than an Alliance soldier? Is there more to defend and love than humanity?
1. Chapter 1

**Mass Effect Fan Fiction: Part I, Chapter I**

**Arcturus Station, Docking Bay C12**

Shepard stood, watching as the Turian engineers scanned the outside of the Normandy. She was at Arcturus station in docking bay C12. Standing off to the side, she was obscure amongst the multitude of crates and loading machinery. Unlike the Normandy who sat proudly in the middle of her nest, drawing eyes and the occasional camera flash. Her maiden voyage was the talk of the station. In 14 hours she would be reporting to Commander Anderson at this location for her duty as his second in command. This bird was his new baby and soon to be her home. She couldn't deny the beauty of the ship. It was everything the rumors said it would be. But her admiration was fleeting as her curiosity, suspicions, dominated her thoughts_. Why are Turians scanning a ship they helped built not one month ago? And why was a SPECTRE overseeing their work?_

She didn't know who the SPECTRE was. It had taken her a few moments to even identify the ensign upon his armor denoting him as an agent of the council. But really, what else could he be, a Turian strutting around an Alliance military base with all that firepower?

SPECTREs were something completely separate from any military or government in space, with more weaponry, technology, jurisdiction, and in some ways, more influence than any as well. For every war their actions stopped, two could just have easily been started. They were advertised as the glue holding the races of the galaxy together, the tools of the council.

They were dangerous in her opinion. _Unchecked power corrupts and consumes_. He was no different. At least she assumed the Turian was a he. Her experience with aliens was minimal and never led to polite conversation. _God bless her if that's what their females look like._

"I see you found the Normandy."

Shepard tried to smother how startled she was by the sudden appearance of Anderson behind her.

Straightening into a rigid salute, she dropped her bag and fell into her role of a dutiful marine.

"Commander Anderson."

"At ease soldier."

Anderson let a small smile slip as he stepped past the marine. Shepard was an impeccable soldier with outstanding scores, an impressive record, and the makings of a true leader. Then there was the Normandy, the most advanced ship in the Alliance Navy packed with experimental technology which could change how they approached military operations. Standing with her in front of this ship, HIS ship, he couldn't help but feel everything was falling into place; pride swelled his chest. He knew she was the right choice and it was finally humanity's time.

"What are your impressions of the Normandy?"

Shepard eased out of her decorum and stepped even with Anderson. Glancing briefly at his profile before focusing on the ship she answered.

"She's beautiful. Small for frontal attacks, but ideal for stealth missions and recon." There was a pause before she added, "The paint job could use some work."

A brief smile flickered across his lips.

"That's exactly what she's meant for and how we'll be using her, despite the paint job."

As is true with most warriors who have seen too many battles, his laugh felt bitter to him and gave way to grim contemplation. The old general couldn't help but feel some concern and sadness for his young companion. How long would it be before such simple humor left her? He knew that humanity needed to move forward and that the next step was finally getting a human candidate to be accepted as a SPECTRE. Humanity couldn't hope to have a seat on the council without it. What bothered him was his knowledge of the cruelty and darkness in the galaxy that this marine would be facing on her own and the responsibility that would be bound to her if they succeeded. Shepard was not without a hard past, having experienced brutality first hand, but there is a difference between facing and surviving the worst and guiding the future of the galaxy by choosing to make your home in it. Could he really expect her to succeed where he failed? He didn't know and wondered if they were prepping a hero for humanity, a bright star for others to follow, or sacrificing her for just a chance at advancement.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking, what are the Turians doing on Arcturus scanning the Normandy?"

Anderson expected Shepard's curiosity but it was vital that she did not know what the brass was planning. Any change if her performance or refusal would set back all the progress made by Udina in gaining permission to put forth a candidate. It would be months before they got another chance.

Anderson hardened his gaze as he faced the young soldier. Shepard was smart but even an idiot would notice the oddly angular and stiff figures of Turians wondering around the Normandy, an Alliance ship on an Alliance base. Anyone would wonder. It was his job to fashion a charade capable of keeping Shepard in the dark. She must not know what Nihlus was doing or what the Alliance's true intentions were until Nihlus left. He tried deflecting the question with an answer filled with facts but empty of knowledge.

"Nihlus is a council SPECTRE. He's going to be joining us for the next couple of months. He's here to both observe the Alliance, how we operate, and to see how the Normandy functions. As you know the Normandy is the result of a collaborative effort between the Turians and Humans. Part of the trade for receiving and implementing Turian technology and ship design with our own is giving them an opportunity to see the results."

"But why is a council SPECTRE here and not a Turian general or specialist?"

When Anderson, Hackett, and Udina argued over who should be chosen as the SPECTRE candidate, it was universally accepted that whoever it was had to be more than just another soldier or leader. They needed to be capable of thinking for themselves, sharp and creative, with a strong resilience. Shepard beat out older, more highly qualified and experienced soldiers because she possessed these traits. Her handling of Elysium went against traditional military protocols and yet, every decision she made was right, and she never lost control of her unit. If he was going to keep her in the dark, he was going to have to remind her of a soldier's duty and honor.

"It doesn't matter who is here or why. You are my XO and as such will not question my command. It has been decided that a council SPECTRE, Nihlus, will accompany us to strengthen Turian and Human relations. He will be treated with respect and whatever he asks of you, you will do as if I commanded it myself. That means promptly and without question."

Shepard responded to the sharp edge in his voice by falling back into her rigid military stance and reflexively sounding a reply in an impersonal and serious tone.

"Understood."

"Report back here tomorrow at 0600. Meet me in the Com Room. Dismissed."

Despite her frustration, Shepard saluted, gave a, "Yes sir," picked her bag up, and turned to leave. Before existing the hanger however, she stepped behind some crates and watched as Anderson approached Nihlus and greeted him. Then they entered the Normandy together. _This isn't right. He's hiding something from me._

In the few years Shepard had known Anderson, he rarely pulled rank or gave her such curt orders. Ever since Elysium, he became interested in her and took care to discuss tactics and command strategies with her. In a sense, mentoring or grooming her. Whatever was going on, she couldn't quite shake the feeling that it had very little to do with Turian and Human relations and very much to do with her.

As Shepard moved through the station to her temporary bunk, her mind wondered. She had only been with the Alliance for ten years. Normally under some else's command and never leading more than a small group of soldiers herself or over seeing simple military operations. Sure she excelled in her training and service with one victory that loomed around her. Many would heralded her for Elysium; but what the Alliance called heroic, she called revenge. It wasn't a job or duty to kill Batarians. She enjoyed it in a way no soldier should have. Besides, she wasn't chosen to repel the slavers. Her unit just happened to be there overseeing defense tower installation when the attack took place.

She was never noticed as an esteemed leader before Elysium and there are others who have accomplished so much more. There was nothing in her history to warrant working as second in command under one of the Alliance's greatest leaders, on the most advanced ship in their fleet , and especially not beside a Turian SPECTRE. _I haven't even received our mission orders yet and suddenly a Turian SPECTRE is tagging along? This goes beyond the Alliance and I have feeling it's not going to be something I like. _She pictured the Turian in her head. His hard exoskeleton forming unnatural planes and edges with deep set, black eyes. His sharply pointed body moving rigidly and strong despite his armor and weapons. A face she could not read or understand. _Nope, I'm definitely going to hate it._

**AN:**

Reader,

Hopefully this was a good introduction for a story I plan to span through all three Mass Effect games and possibly a little in between the games. Now this is the first story I have ever written or posted. So please let me know if you notice something wrong. I am worried the format won't turn out right when I post the chapter as this is the first time I've done anything on FF beside read. I will of course check it myself but may not be able to figure out how to correct the mistake. So if you have experience posting chapters and go, "Oh the silly goose did this instead of that," let the silly goose know. She'll do better in the future if you do.

As I mentioned, I'm also a newbie to writing anything other than papers. Critiques are very welcomed. I'm someone who doesn't just like to dabble in new things but really do them right. I'll appreciate any help you could give so I might improve and learn.

I hope you enjoyed the fist chapter. Thanks for readying!

Sara

P.S. I owe nothing that could even be remotely associated with Mass Effect


	2. Chapter 2

**Mass Effect Fan Fiction: Part II, Chapter I**

**Arcturus Station, Inside the Normandy**

Anderson and Nihlus moved through the ship, past the Galaxy map where Presley was overseeing the last of the system checks. He looked up nodding to Anderson and ignoring what walked beside him. Anderson nodded in return before activating the elevator. Once the doors opened the two entered, standing side by side, waiting for them to close. It wasn't until they began their decent to the lower floor that Nihlus spoke.

"So, was that blonde I spied by the crates Shepard?"

He drawled out his question in what Anderson assumed was a mocking gesture. Nihlus knew what Shepard looked like and Anderson didn't understand why he was pretending otherwise. He answered gruffly with a yes.

"She watched us for nearly an hour while I waited for you. I'm glad she's curious and hones in on the unusual, but she's not the most discreet candidate is she?"

Anderson tensed, unsure if he was teasing or not and didn't care. Turians rarely expressed their emotions with physical queues and he had never befriended one to know what small signs to look for. Either way, the whole business with Shepard and the SPECTRE candidacy had him on edge.

"Shepard is the best of humanity and she has no need to hide on an Alliance controlled station."

His answer must have been harsher then intended for all he got in return was Nihlus cocking his head at him, twitching one mandible, and replying, "Of course."

His perpetually smooth tone grated Anderson's civility. Once the doors opened they moved through the cafeteria into his office. Anderson walked behind his desk and turned towards Nihlus fixing him with a scowl causing him to draw up short.

"We'll be leaving tomorrow at 0700. Shepard will be reporting at 0600. As the council has requested, she knows nothing about your purpose here or the mission. The mission details themselves are strictly classified and will be given as needed." Anderson leaned forward on his desk, raising his voice as he continued, "Now do you care to tell me why a flock of Turian engineers are scanning my ship?"

Nihlus's face was stone as he moved forward, casually as if asked to take a seat, and settled opposite of the general. He studied the human. "His" ship was given to him by the Alliance who didn't even own it entirely. Without the Turians, the Normandy's revolutionary capabilities and design would not have been possible. _How arrogant humans can be._

"The Turian military wanted to establish a baseline for the Normandy before its first mission. In a few months they will scan the ship again to check for any changes," the response was flat.

Nihlus left out the part where the council demanded the Normandy to be fully checked before any of their agents boarded the ship. Ever since Anderson had been put forth as a candidate for SPECTRE and his actions caused disastrous results, he had been loosely monitored by the council as a potential threat. It wasn't without cause. There was evidence recovered at the refinery by a Salarian STG clean-up crew were Anderson helped rescue Kahlee Sanders which hinted at sabotage. This evidence supported Saren's, another agent of the council's, claim that a betrayal occurred. Following the mission report and discovery, Anderson, the golden boy of the Alliance, became a black sheep to the council. He was refused as SPECTRE and covertly labeled as a person of interest. All of which was classified, but as a SPECTRE, Nihlus knew.

Anderson sat down, and though his tone was more civil, he remained tense and persistent.

"The Alliance has already done the same and the findings were sent to the appropriate channels, Council and Turian alike."

Anderson didn't really expect a truthful answer. He had already looked into the matter and knew those engineers were sent not by the Turian military or government, but the Turian councilor himself. If he was being honest, he would admit the obvious, the Alliance was not being trusted with a council agent or council business. Everything the Normandy would do in the following days would be reported not only to the Alliance, but to the council as well. They would also not act on any Alliance command without the council's approval given at Nihlus's discretion. They may be at Arcturus aboard the Normandy with an Alliance general acting as the CO, but they would be under council command until a decision was made.

"Turians and Humans do not always have the same objectives. We deemed it necessary to perform extra scans to benefit our particular needs. I've been looking forward to working with you. You are a great commander, loved by the Alliance and those you lead, who has performed honorably in his service to humanity. I hope we can have an amiable partnership."

Nihlus may be a SPECTRE, but that was not exclusive to gun fights and brawls. He knew part of the job involved reasoning, flattery, and deception, diplomatic solutions.

Anderson sighed and looked out the small window near his desk. Armory and weapons equipment were being organized on the dock in preparation for loading. And the Turians were scanning the crates before Alliance personal were permitted to load them. Their actions plainly said security detail. _Partnership my ass. But two can play this game._

"I hope for the same."

Andersons voice was free of stress and resentment as he chose to focus on what needed to be done. However, he could not relax the intensity in his gaze. He tried to resign himself to what was happening and would be happening and ignore everything else. His purpose was to push Shepard onto Nihlus so she would be chosen as a SPECTRE, and he couldn't jeopardize this chance for humanity by making things difficult or allowing his emotions to take control.

"We should not forget why we are here. Shepard truly is a remarkable soldier. She survived a slaver attack on Mindor when she was only 7. Grew up with her aunt on Earth after she lost her family in the attack. The day she turned 18 she enlisted through one of our college programs. Following her graduation she completed her marine training and served only two years as an officer before being recruited for the N7 program. From there she immediately began leading small operations with consistent success. When she was sent to Elysium to improve their defenses, just her third solo command, the colony fell under slaver attack. Her unit was isolated from command, lacking in heavy weaponry, had thousands of colonist to protect, and was out numbered by the enemy 8 to 1. Against impossible odds, she saved the colony and beat back a horde of Batarian slavers. Her whole life has been a battle and she never fails to raise to the challenge and come out stronger."

Nihlus preferred this serious, level headed version of Anderson as opposed the brooding version he had the pleasure of talking to most of the time. It was the same person he witnessed leading the men and women who served under him. The same one who commanded soldiers, cared for civilians, and tempered leaders. This is the man he heard the Alliance soldiers whisper about. Not the one in Saren's report or the one who looked at him with hate and distrust. _Was it because he served in the First Contact War, or was it what happened with Saren? What was it that hardened this man toward Turians?_

"I remember reading the report the Alliance gave the council."

Nihlus also gathered his own report on Shepard when her name was submitted which went far deeper and more personal than the Alliance's before encouraging the council to accept her.

"She is truly a remarkable soldier. I imagine the next few weeks will be interesting."

Nihlus stood from his seat.

"I look forward to meeting her tomorrow. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?"

Anderson stood and extended his hand.

"No, we can meet in the Com Room at 0610. That will give Shepard time to report."

Nihlus grasped the commander's forearm and squeezed tightly for a brief moment. Anderson didn't even hesitate in mimicking the gesture, a Turian "hand shake."

"Agreed."

Nihlus then left Anderson's room and headed toward the elevator to go to his own on the top deck. It wasn't strictly necessary for him to be staying there. His room assignment after all was more like a suite with an abundance of space and all its luxuries; a large bed, personal walk in shower, couches, and an impressive office area. As a SPECTRE he typically traveled alone on single-manned ships or secretly boarded passage on carriers and cruisers. On rare missions, he would command a Turian vessel with a team of soldiers and specialists or perhaps collaborate with one of the other council races. The intended captain's cabin was too much compared to the cot stuffed between crates of weapons and red sand in a cargo hold. His "room" on the last mission he competed. Not to mention Turians in general weren't drawn to anything that could be considered excessive, impractical, or just plain frivolous. But Anderson claimed to be fond of having his office near the mess, offering his CO cabin to him.

In reality it kept Nihlus separate from the rest of the crew. An unfortunate necessity aboard the human manned ship.

As he walked through the cafeteria toward the crew quarters and elevator, a dozen men and women gathered in the mess fell silent. Only a handful looked at him as he approached. Most studied him with suspicion. One marine nodded his head in acknowledgement but kept his expression cold, and all stared after him when he passed the table. And though he could not know, he knew they all began talking again after the elevator doors closed.

**AN:**

Reader,

I decided to go ahead and post the rest of the chapter one today so the same thing the other AN claimed still applies. I have no idea what I'm doing and just hope I didn't mess completely. Let me know if there is something I can fix or improve on. I am much obliged to you.

Thanks for reading,

Sara

P.S. Did anyone else read my silly summary and think it sounded like a cliché romance novel description? I did but didn't know what else to put. I mean it got the job done, but wow, was it corny.

Finally, I don't own anything that could even remotely be associated with Mass Effect.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: ** Just a quick tid bit, please note the rating of M for Mature. From now on you can expect cussing, sexual references, violence, even explicit sexual imagery though most of this will occur much later.

**Mass Effect Fan Fiction: Chapter II, Part I**

**Normandy, Crew Quarters Bunk No. 18**

Shepard tossed in her bunk, sweat accumulating on her brow as she struggled in her sheets. Though her legs and arms bumped and pushed against the walls of her sleeper pod, she was otherwise silent, swallowing her groans and choking on her screams in her sleep.

She tried to breathe silently and slowly but the air was too heavy with straw, wood shavings, and dirt; it choked her. The usual smell of manure was being smothered by smoke and an acidic scent that wafted through the air and burned her nose and throat. Everything was burning. The horses were baying and wouldn't stop stomping their feet as they kicked and shoved against their stall's walls and gates. Each thump caused more dirt and straw to fall through the cracks above her.

She tried to shift her position, but the space was so small she found her body perfectly pressed from all angles against the rough wooden boards; her back and sides became scratched as she squirmed, trying to breathe. There was but an inch of space in between her body and the floor above her and she dared not touch it. No, she remained flat against the painful boards. Pressed herself further against them. It's the outside she feared, where everything was burning.

She started. She heard them. They were coming. Her heart raced with her panicked mind_. You must not touch the floor above. You cannot move the trap. Stay hidden. Not one sound. _If only she could breathe.

She heard the footsteps. They were getting closer. Their soft, padding noise against the hard dirt floors was louder than the horses' shrill panic to her ears. She couldn't see them. She was enveloped in darkness, but she knew they stopped above her. The thick layer of straw heaped upon her hiding place prevented them from noticing the wooden floor they now stood on. They began shouting over the fires and panic of the animals but their noises meant nothing to her; a gargle of clicks, deep, rough tones, and grunts.

One of them began firing making her heart stop and her body tense. A horse screamed, now out of pain instead of fear. The cry pierced her. They began making a chorus of pulsing noise which rose and fell in they all started firing and an avalanche of screams echoed about the barn and filled her hole. The shooting was loud and made her ears ring but the screaming of the dying animals was louder, engulfing her in her darkness, and making her skin crawl.

When it stopped, she trembled as more of their perverse laughter filled her darkness. Her nails dug into her skin, drawing blood and bruising her palms. The stomping and screaming of the horses had stopped. Her eyes were wide while her mouth remained sealed shut. Her body tried to scream for her as she shook in her hole trying to release her distress and fear. It wasn't long before something dripped down through the cracks, landing on her head. The dripping soon became a steady flow and spread down through the cracks, coating her._ Don't think about it. Don't think about it._

She closed her eyes, squeezed them tight. _DON'T THINK ABOUT IT! _Her shaking and breathing stopped as she held her breath. She was began trying to breathe the thick, poisonous air as she chanted to herself. _You must not touch the floor above. You cannot move the trap. Stay hidden. Not one sound. You must not touch the floor above. You cannot move the trap. Stay hidden. Not one sound. _If only she could breathe. Taking deep, fast breathes, she searched for some type of control as noises began to escape her. More smoke filled the barn and began to seep into her hole, blanketing her. She felt her throat burn as her mouth was filled with the taste of ash and smoke. Every breath suddenly not enough. There was more shouting then their footsteps retreated from the enclosure, surrendering it to the flames. Heat warmed against her skin. The fires were approaching. _What do I do? _A glow seeped into her hole as flickers of yellow and orange danced above her. _Where do I go? _The heat surrounded her, making her skin unbearably hot. Boards cracked and shifted under the flames' hunger.

Shepard woke with a start. Her fingernails were digging into her palms as her fists remained balled. She was glad she clipped her nails recently or her hands would be bleeding like so many times before. She struggled temporarily to get out of her tangled sheets and stand. Her clothes clung to her body from sweat. She tugged on her top, trying to peel it away from her skin. It was early, but not too early. In one hour she would have gotten up anyways. An early start couldn't hurt and it wasn't like she would be going back to sleep. Shepard gathered her shower bag and uniform then left the bunk room. At least she would have the bathroom to herself and could wash the dream off her body and maybe off her mind.

After her shower Shepard ate her breakfast. Sitting in the silence of a still sleeping Normandy, she listened to the hum of the engines as she drank her morning tea. All the lights were dimmed in the medical bay, kitchen, and passage way to the main cannon. She positioned herself sideways, straddling the bench seat to face the side of the cafeteria and stilled her movements. Eventually the lights above her dimmed and Shepard was rewarded with a clear view outside the window which ran along the cafeteria hull. The stars were bright, hanging in the dark expanse. There was nothing out there, just cold, endlessness, and silence. _Peace_.

Hearing a dull thud followed by swearing and shuffling Shepard turned to see the cook hopping towards the kitchen. Lighting filled the room once more. His shirt was untucked and crooked from being bunched on one shoulder, pants zipped but unbuttoned, and one boot was just hanging onto his foot, unbuckled, as its partner was being shoved onto the other.

"Sleep in Sergeant?"

"Fuck," was all the man managed before falling forward, sprawling across the floor and losing his boot in the process

"Commander! What are, I mean…"

The sentence hung as the young man's face paled. In an effort to save himself, he straightened into rigid attention. Shepard hid her smile by feigning another sip as she took in the disheveled appearance, missing shoe and all, in a perfect military pose.

"Good morning ma'm," his voice pitching high and breaking off.

Shepard swiveled around in her bench to sit proper before crossing her legs and resting her elbows on the table, holding the cup in both hands. She took a moment to sip her tea and watch the sheepish man fidget in his stance as time passed.

"Oh please continue I'm enjoying the morning show."

The Sergeant blushed at the cherisher smile and hurried over to the kitchen.

"Don't worry Commander. Breakfast will be served at 0600, as always."

"In just 15 minutes?"

The sergeant paused for a second in panic before continuing to haphazardly pull pans and pots out.

"Of course of course. Just 15 minutes and bacon and eggs with oatmeal and biscuits. And juice. And fruit. Milk. It will all be ready."

Sweat began to coat his forehead under her continued observation and Shepard noticed that his tone became more uncertain as he listed the menu.

"For a crew of 40?"

The man cursed again when he fumbled a pan that clattered loudly. More sweat accumulated on his brow.

"Connley?"

The Sergeant startled when he turned and found the Commander standing in the kitchen.

"Ma'm yes ma'm."

He responded immediately, standing stiff again, awaiting his judgment.

"There's no reason to make the crew suffer through doughy biscuits and burnt bacon. Just cook like you normally do, forget the time, and don't let it happen again."

"Yes ma'm, thank you ma'm."

Connley relaxed as much as his adrenaline filled body would allow and went back to cooking.

Shepard placed her cup on the counter then headed towards the stairs to check on the night crew upstairs who were no doubt looking forward to some much needed sleep.

**Normandy, CIC**

Shepard arrived at the CIC and took in the motely crew of 6 whose only jobs were monitoring systems, keeping the Normandy on route, and sorting through coms. Easily the most important job was analyzing the constant stream of data from within the system, various communicates sent through Alliance channels, news sources, and of course messages sent from the brass directly to the Normandy. Data being sent across Alliance and news channels for both humanity and other races were first sorted by a VI program which forwarded any that may have relevance to their current mission or location to the comms supervisor who delegated appropriately to his or her crew. This list was then read through by communications and intelligence specialists aboard who after analyzing them proceeded according to set protocols. Anything possibly requiring immediate attention would be flagged and sent to Anderson who would then be awoken by an alarm in his cabin to assess if an action was necessary now or could wait until the day cycle began. If a message or area scan was exciting enough to hint at an upcoming threat or a warning of attack, the entire crew would be awoken following the appropriate emergency protocols.

Shepard grinned as she spotted Ian at the side of the galaxy map posting different markers relating to locations mentioned in newly processed intel. Ian was a gossip and a brilliant intelligence officer. Not the most successful combination for military operations which depended on secrecy, but oddly suitable if there was dirt that needed to be uncovered. Ian loved a good story and anything scandalous which made him the blood hound of communications on the Normandy. Right now Shepard needed someone in the know with loose lips.

"My my, doesn't someone look fine in the glow of the galaxy map."

Ian responded with a glare.

"Oh no you don't lass, coming over here with that swagger to chat me up for information. A man has standards don't you know."

Shepard pouted but Ian only rolled his eyes before focusing back on his duties. She sighed and went to stand beside him at the map. After studying it briefly, she turned to lean against the console. Crossing her arms, she stared at the man until he relented under her gaze. Ian groaned.

"Look, I'm on restricted access under Anderson's orders. After you _harassed_ me last time," Shepard arched a brow at his choice of words, "and shook Eden Prime out of me as our destination I've been put on the night shift for the remainder of the posting and Miss. Stick Up Her Ass," he motioned to the severe looking woman sitting at a console on the walk-way to the helm, "has been ordered to give me nothing directly pertaining to mission specifics."

He paused only to make a show out of huffing.

"Do you want to know what I've been sorting through for the past two nights?" He didn't wait for her to answer but continued louder than before directing his next sentence towards the helm. "I've been reading bloody news articles about the cuisine and tourist sites on Eden Prime. It's a waste of my God given talent!"

Shepard became interested in how his new supervisor was going to handle the outburst. She had yet to speak to the older black woman and wanted to know she could handle a person like Ian all by herself for the 10 hour night shift. Informality was fine until those under your command stopped respecting your position and orders. It was a delicate dance to be a friend to subordinates while maintaining absolute control.

"Watch your mouth McScotts. I take no prisoners were angry red heads are concerned."

She didn't even look up from her computer as if Ian and his attitude were nothing to her.

"I hate the Sweedish," Ian grumbled, "I'm being abused and neglected Shepard."

If there was one way to cariole Ian, it was not giving him the time of day. The woman had Shepard's approval.

"Sounds like some humility might do you good. Stay on good behavior and stop talking to your supervisor like that and you may get off the night shift."

"Really?" Ian perked up at this.

Shepard nodded. "Sooo, nothing juicy?"

"Not even a scrap, at least none that I'm privy to."

She eyed his supervisor before gesturing towards her. "Do I have a chance getting anything from her?"

Ian looked at her incredulously, "Hell no."

She was just about to go and try anyways when the elevator doors opened behind her.

"Searching for information again Shepard?" Nihlus questioned while intently placing himself beside her.

Shepard would have cussed at the SPECTERS's awful timing but Anderson had already been on her case about minding her manners around the Turian. Instead she turned with a bright, insincere, smile plastered on her face.

"Oh no, I was just talking to Ian about some new points on the galaxy map. After all I'm banned from interacting with any computers on the Normandy while unsupervised."

She smiled even brighter after her petty dig. When she reported four days ago for her first morning on the Normandy, she was told by Anderson that everything was going to be on a need to know basis and that Nihlus had unrestricted access to anywhere aboard the Normandy. Later that day she learned what he meant by "unrestricted access". It meant Nihlus was free to stalk her throughout the day while she performed her duties. She suffered through his never ending questions about her history, duties, knowledge about this or that, experience with other races, travels through space, ect ect. All the while making a point to comment on how she performed her duties and interacted with the crew.

To make matters more frustrating, there were obviously people who knew more about what was going on than her. Being the XO, this was unusual. If Anderson was going to delegate sensitive information to anyone, the XO would be the first served. However, he had Pressley running around doing some of her duties so no information about the mission had to be divulged to her. Add in the fact that Nihlus was supposedly here to observe the Normandy in action but was only interested in her and Shepard couldn't stand it anymore. She had to know. _There is always a way to uncover a secret and I have yet to shy from dirty work. I wonder what I can dig up on Mr. Anderson's and Miss. Nihlus's happy marriage. After all, no matter how hard it is to uncover a secret, it's even harder to keep it hidden_.

**AN:**

Reader,

This chapter ends in an awkward place because it is actually one chapter broken up into two to make for a more manageable upload. The following chapter, a continuation, will be uploaded soon after this one. Thanks to everyone who has taken an interest and is reading my story. A special thanks to Theodur for his review. I really enjoyed getting such a quick response.

Thanks for reading,

Sara

P.S. Anything that can be remotely associated with Mass Effect is not mine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Mass Effect Fan Fiction: Chapter II, Part II**

On the third day out she lost Nihlus by introducing him formally to Engineer Adams on the lower deck then slipped over to the elevator as he went into a lengthy explanation about the drive core and the ship's stealth capabilities. The elevator was the only way to the higher floors and would put some space between her and Nihlus. She rode it to the CIC then pressed all the buttons. The damn thing was so slow, she estimated that she bought herself 15 minutes before it would cycle back down to engineering and pick up Nihlus. It took three tries at casual conversation and subtle prying before she found an intelligence specialist who would answer some of her questions, Ian.

She didn't even have to ask for it directly. She greeted him, inquired about his home and family, then without prompting he spilt the destination of the mission, Eden Prime. Seemed quite proud of himself for knowing too as he obtained the information by snooping through the pilot's logs. She should have reprimanded him, but she was essentially doing the same thing. As he spoke to her about Eden Prime an intrigued Turian arrived. Though Shepard took in his expression and thought he was angry. _I would say he's pissed but he always wears that ugly face so who really knows. _

Following the incident, Ian was moved to nights and an announcement was made that any mission details were only to be discussed with the CO, Anderson, and Pressley. _Not the XO, no what's the sense in that? _ Shepard didn't take the announcement too well.

The fourth day she visited the pilot and quickly deduced that with his smart mouth and apparent approval of her good looks, judged by his leering gaze, may be the kind willing to shirk orders from the CO. _Pervy and sarcastic, how'd I get so lucky? _ Loosing Nihlus wasn't going to work again, so she opted to give Joker a note, hopefully, without Nihlus being aware. On a bathroom break she used a marker to write her personal e-mail and a short note, "Tell me what you know," on the back of a candy bar which she offered to him in a ploy of friendship later that day on her rounds.

"Gee thanks candy for the cripple. I suddenly feel like a part of the crew where before I was lonely and isolated from everyone else because I'm _different_."

Shepard called him a smart-ass before going about her business. Giving him her personal e-mail meant the message would be received on her omni-tool before the comms team had a chance to analyze it. Though they would get a copy and eventually read it, it wouldn't be sorted to the top of the pile by the VI. Nor would it be blocked since it originated from within the Normandy. Shepard only had one shot with this and a small window of time to get any information from Jeff before Anderson was alerted about her breach in protocol. _God this better be worth the reprimand and write up_.

Fifteen minutes later Jeff responded with a simple message, "I know what you know. Try this link, and here's login information that may be useful."

Shepard was in the cafeteria at the time. Sitting down eating as Nihlus rummaged through the kitchen for his dextro-immuno foods which last night were mysteriously moved into the Med bay in one of the empty lockers. Of course she didn't know anything about that. Seeing he would be occupied for a while, Shepard took the opportunity to follow up on Joker's lead.

She opened the link first and immediately went scarlet as a 3D holographic image floated above her wrist of an Asari giving a human a blowjob complete with all the lewd sounds one might expect. Filling the immediate area was the awful noise of slurping and the man's intense moans as he demanded for the alien to, "Suck…." Well Shepard and the three other marines also sitting down to eat would never know what the man was going to say as she quickly cut off the link.

She glared hotly at the slack jawed marines sitting to her left and barked in her embarrassment, "What, you never got any blasted junk mail?" They stared blankly at her but soon their shock began to wear off and Shepard stood stiffly from the table, moving quickly to the break room before the jarring began. _Joker is going to die a painful death! _At her back were roars of laughter_. I should have known not to trust a pervert. _After reaching the lounge she wondered if she should even try the username and password he had given her. Since the room was empty and she didn't have anything else to loose or time to waste, she quickly turned on the terminal used by the crew.

On all Alliance vessels, every omni-tool signal was blocked from the extranet except for correspondence from within the ship to prevent breaches in security. Terminals onboard served as a secure means to contact the outside. It also helped the Alliance restrict what information different crew members could access. Each soldier had a username and password issued to them which they used to log onto the terminal. A higher ranking individual would be able to look up classified Alliance files while a simple marine would be restricted to communicating with his family and performing basic extranet searches that were deemed appropriate.

Shepard wondered if username AA23681 with password JK6_714df9L was an account belonging to Joker or someone else. Before hitting enter, she checked over her soldier one last time to make sure Nihlus was still searching for food and not right behind her. He had a way of silently moving about and surprising her. _Time for the moment of truth._ She typed her fingers on the holographic keyboard and the screen projected, "Captain Anderson Logged On."

_How did that rat bastard get Anderson's login? Damn, I'm going to owe him a kiss after this._

She eagerly began searching through his mission files. She paused as she opened the folder usually designated for files pertaining to the current mission. Inside contained file after file about herself. Anderson was gathering and storing files on her, a lot of them. She swiped down on the display to reveal even more. Some were about Nihlus, the council, and Prothean technology but the vast majority had her name attached to them.

She felt cold suddenly and vaguely sick. _Why are they interested in me? _Anger and distrust suddenly filled her as she recalled Anderson's sudden interest in her and all the time and attention he had given her over the past couple of months. _He was playing me, acting like he cared while he violated my privacy, my past. _She gripped the table in front of her. It was stupid but she had looked at him like a father figure and now she wasn't sure. She wanted to see what he had learned about her, what exactly he was looking for, but knew that time was short and she needed to focus.

Towards the bottom of the list she found a subcategory for Eden Prime. Selecting it she was met with another password request. Cussing under her breath she slapped her hand down and considered using a hacking module.

"Try tomatoes. I think he said that was his favorite food."

She didn't even look at the Turian who had yet again snuck up behind her. She was too angry and tired of being lied to.

"How many files do you have on me? I know you've done your own research."

She was guessing of course but it felt right. She started an Alliance hacking program wondering if she should even feel hopeful considering what ship she was on.

Nihlus made a low reverberating noise before punching in something on his omni-tool which successfully shut down the computer. Shepard's jaw clenched as she tried to reign in her anger.

"Let's make a deal. Tell me where my food is and I won't report you to Anderson."

Shepard wheeled to face him, hating is cool expression and calm tone.

"I just tried hacking into an Alliance database and possessed intel that was likely stolen and you're bargaining with paste?"

There was a beat as he studied her.

"It's nutritious."

She wasn't sure how to regard him. She had spent the past few days barely being polite to him, responding to his inquisitions with curt answers, and never once inquiring about himself or his family. Now here she is breaking standing orders and multiple protocols and all he wants is the food she childishly hid from him. She crossed her arms.

"Why is everyone interested in me? You wouldn't be so willing to forgive and forget if I wasn't important. And what does Eden Prime have to do with the council or myself?"

"Tomorrow."

"What?"

"Tomorrow we will arrive at Eden Prime."

She waited for him to continue and grew angry when he didn't.

"So tomorrow all will be revealed and I'm just supposed to ignore the invasion of my privacy," she gestured sharply to the computer, "and be okay with everything?"

"Yes."

_I swear he's grinning at me. What a motherfucker. _ She wanted to punch him. She wanted to find Anderson and demand to know what was going on. She would have breathed deeply only that never worked. After staring long enough that time stretched uncomfortably, she relented.

"Fine, your food is in locker 413 in the Med Bay."

It wasn't like she had much of a choice. Despite her anger and frustration, she was the one who had the most to lose in this situation and he knew it. Nihlus moved to the door, leaving her to stew and to find his food, but took a second to pause at the door.

"You will also be unable to use any terminal without supervision until the mission is completed. And that password won't work again."

She waited until he left and the doors closed before growling and punching the hull. Stalking out of the room she found the same three marines form earlier finishing their meal. At the sight of her, all of them began to grin. To their credit, they did attempt not to laugh.

"Ingles! The toilets need scrubbing. Jones, the Mako requires an oil change and systems check. And McDavid, Adams was complaining about something blocking the air flow in the ventilation ducts, see to it."

It may have been low of her to take out her anger on them, but she was hoping it would stop them from spreading around just what kind of e-mails Commander Shepard receives. It also allowed her to vent. When she entered the elevator and a young cadet blushed before averting her eyes, Shepard knew she was too late and the story had flown the coop.

That concluded Shepard's unsuccessful attempt at uncovering anything significant and being left with more questions than before. And here stood Nihlus yet again interfering.

"Searching for information again Shepard?"

"Oh no, I was just talking to Ian about some new points on the galaxy map. After all I'm banned from interacting with any computers on the Normandy while unsupervised."

He answered her obnoxious smile with a look of his own. For once Shepard was able to read it. He was amused and even… _He's teasing me._ He squeezed her shoulder as he moved by her and said in a low steady voice.

"It's tomorrow Shepard."

He made his way across the bridge to the pilot's cabin leaving Shepard shocked with the realization that Nihlus actually liked her. She thought back to the past few days slowly coming to understand the Turian a little better before moving to the Com room.

Anderson would meet with her there, go over the day's agenda, and send her to oversee their last jump through a mass relay before arriving at Eden Prime. She wanted to confront him and ask him how long he'd been watching her. She wanted to demand mission details and finally learn what was going on. But at this point, she didn't care as much. It was tomorrow and Shepard could feel something was about to happen. She was a young, inexperienced commander, on the SR Normandy, serving under Captain Anderson, working with a Turian SPECTRE. She was in over her head and as she faced Anderson in the Com room, it was with less respect and trust. _Why do I suddenly miss having a Turian following me?_

**AN:**

Reader,

Thanks again for reading. As always I appreciate it. Now please don't be expecting two more chapters tomorrow. I wanted to get the first few chapters done and polished so I could post them at the same time. Having a group of chapters together does a better job of setting the stage then one small introductory chapter, ideally giving you a better idea of what to expect. I'll do my best to have weekly posts.

Thanks for reading,

Sara

P.S. Anything that can be remotely associated to Mass Effect is not mine.


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